Took this down to edit and then our computer broke so it has been down for about two weeks now. I will get the other chapters updated asap. Sadly I do not have a beta/editor/whatever you want to call it, nor do I have spell check, so you will have to bare with me on minor mistakes. Enjoy, drop a review, and thanks for reading!
Disclaimer: I do not own anything.
Natasha sat outside on the balcony, a bottle of recently opened vodka accompanying her. She stared at the clear liquid in her glass, trying to gain control of her thoughts that were running wild, bringing up memories that were best left alone. She took a small drink before sighing as she got up and walked over to the railing. It had been six months since the battle in New York. Six months since she everything she had come to know and live her life by had been compromised. Six months since her world have been flipped upside down.
Natasha had ran as soon as she had gotten the chance; she hadn't been willing to face reality at the time. For the last several months she had been bouncing around cities all across the globe, trying to escape the looming past. She would stay in a hotel for a few days before moving on when the memories became to much. But her problems couldn't be ran from, she could not escape her own mind. Ever since the battle her inner being had been in complete turmoil. She didn't know what to think anymore, didn't know what to believe. All she knew was that she had nearly lost the most important thing in her life and that is what bugged her. Natasha didn't want to care, didn't want to face that fact that she had let someone in, but she had.
With a frown she looked out across the small Italian city, despising the cheery atmosphere. Families were in the nearby park, kites flying high above the trees, children squealing and chasing each other. Wives roamed in the small market to her left, browsing the various stalls that held fruits and vegetables. Below her several french men stood laughing loudly and talking in drunken slurs, adding to her bitter mood. She considered throwing her glass at them, but there was no point in getting charged with assault. Instead she dumped the liquid over the rail before tossing the glass onto the balcony. It landed with a crack as she fell back into the wooden chair with a sigh, the sound of angry french curses drifting up to her ears. She smirked slightly but then it vanished as she dropped her head to her hands, closing her eyes.
"You know, the priceof Vodka has gone uplately. That probably wasn't a wise idea," a voice said from behind her.
On a normal day Natasha would have sprung out of the chair, pulling her gun, and face the person that had snuck up on her. But today she just shrugged, not even bothering to look over her shoulder; She knew who the voice belonged too. And even if it had not been him she would have kept sitting there, pretending the person didn't exist. She was not in the mood to try to deal with anything else except her wild thoughts.
The person walked across the balcony and stood in front of her, crossng his arms and waiting for her to speak . Instead she stared at the man's shoes before slowly working her way up. The thick combat boots were black, as expected. Next came a pair of dark wash jeans, then a black t-shirt. Her eyes finally found his face and his frown. She held his gaze a moment before looking away, unable to stand his stare.
"Why are you here, Clint?" Natasha asked, refusing to look at him.
Clint just shrugged, copying her previous movement. She glowered at him, pushing him aside as she got up and stormed inside. Natasha considered locking him outside on the balcony but decided to slam the door in his face instead. He opened it with a word, an amused chuckle escaping his lips. Clint stared at her a moment before crossing the room to stand in front of her once more. She crossed her arms, rising her chin a bit in defiance as she continued to ignore him.
"How did you know where to find me?" Natasha finally asked.
"I've been keeping tabs on you."
"Oh, great. So now you are S.H.I.E.L.D's watchdog huh?" She snapped.
"I am no one's watchdog. S.H.I.E.L.D has no idea where you are. Like I said, I have been keeping tabs on you."
The way he said it sent shivers down her spine and she felt something foreign stir inside. Natasha swallowed before sitting down on the couch, watching his every move as he shifted his weight,picking at the edge of his nail. "Why have you been keeping tabs on me?" She asked as calmy as she could.
"Had to make sure you were staying out of trouble."
"I do not get into trouble."
He snorted at that comment, sitting down across from her. "Yeah,right," He replied simply before starring at her once more, his eyes on her face. Natasha tried to ignore him and pretend he wasn't there but he was getting to her with every passing second.
"What do you want Clint?" She finally asked while frowning, breaking the silence.
"Answers."
"What kind of answers?"
"Why did you run?" Clint held her eyes, noting the fact that she flinched at the question.
"Why does it matter?" She asked nervously, wishing she had that bottle of Vodka about now.
"Because."
"Because why?" Natasha continued to frown. "It is my problem, not yours."
"Not my problem?" Clint asked in disbelief before slamming his fist down on the table,causing the glass to rattle. She jumped, licking her lips nervously. Natasha knew he was pissed and she was the reason for his rage. He would never hit her, no matter how mad he got, but that didn't stop him from taking his anger out of the coffee table. "It is my problem, Natasha. I was compromised too. I lost myself when Loki took over, I became a completely different person. And as soon as I gained control over myself again, I was thrust into battle before I even had time to think about things. The entire time my mind was on the people that had died because of me, the people I had killed. The guilt was eating me alive. What kept me going was the fact that we would talk when all this was over. I knew I would be able to talk to you, that'd you be there and you would understand. But as soon as the smoke cleared you were gone without a word. So for the last six months I have had to just deal with it, wondering if I did something wrong, if I had hurt you somehow. So yeah, it is my problem!" Clint finished his rant, crossing his arms and glaring into her eyes.
Natasha just sat there, letting his harsh words sink in. She had been wrong to leave him; after the hard missions they were always there for each other. But she had left him when he needed her most. She should have been there to make him stop beating himself up over something he couldn't control but instead she had been hoping across the globe, trying to run away. Natasha racked her brain but she could not find the words to make everything alright. She could not tell him the truth, why she had really ran. How was she supposed to tell him that she felt human for the first time since they met? That she felt weak and exposed? That she had nearly died inside when she heard he was compromised. She didn't like the flood of emotions that were overcoming her- Natasha wised that she could just lock them away somewhere and ignore them. But she had already tried that and it was no use. There were words to explain things, she just couldn't force them out of her mouth. So instead she stared at the floor, trying to hide from his gaze.
"I see...Glad to know where I stand, partner." Clint practically spat the last words before pushing off the couch, heading towards the door
His words were like ice and it felt like someone had punched her in the heart as Clint slammed the door behind him. Natasha bit her lip, trying to keep the tears back, but one managed to slide down her cheek. Ever since her conversation with Loki she had felt like her insides had been twisted around. Her very brain was at war with itself, trying to ignore the new found emotions. Everyone looked at her as the strong, unphasible pillar, but that wasn't who she was anymore. She was changing.
With a sob she curled up in a ball, tired of trying to fight herself. She closed her eyes as the tears rolled down her cheeks, waiting for sleep to claim her. No amount of Vodka or sleep could fix this though. She was going to have to do the inevitable and face Clint. With a sigh she finally slipped into a fitful sleep, her tears wetting her pillow. Natasha promised herself that as soon as she woke up she would make things right. She had too. Otherwise she would be torn apart from the inside out...Loki would win, even if he wasn't there to see it. And she wasn't about to let that happen.